


Return to innocence

by bkokocha



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fairytaleland, General, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bkokocha/pseuds/bkokocha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle and Rumple sing together. Rumbelle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return to innocence

Belle was resting the messy disaster that was her, on the the big armchair of velvet, with the gaze lost in the magenta of the evening sky. A beautiful day. Lying to her feet was a big sack full of dust and of unintentionally broken things, which waited for being throw away after the master bedtime; next to one or two interesting things for be explored by her curiosity, later. She was tired of so much work at clean one of the most forgotten rooms of the Dark Castle.

  
Rumplestiltskin had the tendency of collect thing after thing, and forget the magical, strange and sometimes silly possessions – like the incredible magic river rock of eternal life and the dirty piece of cloth that belonged to a goddess, or the long yellow ribbon for a corset (that she keep in one of her pockets to ask later at Rumplestiltskin the origin, not because he needed to give to her explanations about the silly belongs of a woman who was not her, of course) to one of multiple rooms of the Dark Castle, just to accumulate dust.

  
The work of clean this big room with high windows, arched roofs and beautiful wall adorned with fresco, required of all her attention and the work of two days of shake, sweep and mop the floors with strong will. Even with the help of the magic that Rumple gave her, to have little helpers in the broom and duster that did his job by themselves, the work was a hard one for a not long time ago, Lady of Avonlea. (Of course he fought a little to give to her magic that “comes with a price”, but after a little of internal strife on him caused for a little sweet smile and a bite of lips, he gave up.)

The room now cleans, shiny and with the scent of lavender, was a peaceful place to be. That was until the moment that she heard a sound that came from someplace and did an echo like small, terrifying whispers. Perhaps this room was enchanted?  
Ready to run away to Rumplestiltskin tower, Belle stand up all her tired body in a fast movement, and walked as fast as her wounded pride of hero allowed, until she recognized the voice. It was Rumplestiltskin.

  
The terrifying voices then were transformed in other thing: a voice, that was singing a sweet and perhaps sad tune about lost and forget. Belle didn’t move a muscle, afraid to scare the little voice and his heartfelt piece: “Where are you my sweet love, where are you, the one that was there for me, has forgotten his promise…”

  
Rumplestiltskin, the shy and grumpy Dark One, was singing in the bath. This room was not directly connected to the bathroom, but since all the mess that was a magical Castle, with doors that connected rooms of the first floor with the third, and even other places, the fact that this room were connected to the very same Dark One’s bathroom, was not a surprise for Belle.

  
With her ear pressed to the wall, she heard the sound of him and the run of water, accompanied by his enchanting and surprisingly, sweet voice, pass from the song of Tiberius to the old poems of Ledurio and even a lively song of pub which draw a pair of blushes and muffled giggles from Belle. After a suddenly silence Rumplestiltskin begun the intonation of a very old cradle song. The same one that Belle heard in her own childhood of her mother and after her death, from her father and nana Collins. The song talked about a child returning to home, after meet the cruel world, missing the warm of a mother and the joy of the father, but more than anything, the innocence of the childhood.

  
Absorbed in her memories of long time ago; when she was just a child playing in the gardens of the castle of Avonlea, and not a “respectable Lady”, “just a woman”, “a desirable dowry”, “just a strong belly” or many things more that her first blood and adulthood bring with it, Belle lay down in the now clean floor with smell of lavender, playing with the yellow ribbon in her hands, and sang.

  
Immediatly, at the notice that he was not alone, Rumplestiltskin stopped his sing.  
In knowledge of his shy nature, Belle kept her singing until his silence was so long, that she felt it unbearable.

  
-Don’t let me alone Rumplestiltskin, sing with me, please. – The voice of Belle echoed in the room, giving force at the barely broken tone of hidden melancholy for what was lost for the natural pass of time and the things that came with adulthood.

  
After the uncomfortable sound of water and a clear of lump in the throat, Rumplestiltskin and Belle sang together, that old cradle of the children who wanted return to home and innocence.


End file.
